Life or Death
by Epsarrow
Summary: This is a story mainly about Thirteen and Chase  with some House thrown in . Note: There is blood and violence.
1. Introduction

**HOUSE M. D.**

**LIFE OR DEATH**

**The beginning of the story nonsense that is only here because some jealous,**

**critical _idiots_ like to complain about whether someone "stole" or not:**

The hit TV series House M. D. belongs to Fox. I am in no way claiming copyright to

anything belonging to the show – the characters are used in a purely fictional, original

storyline. I repeat: The places, ideas, and characters belong to House M. D. hosted by

Fox, however this particular storyline was created by _. Thank you.

Before starting the story, I will give you a little of an introduction. I love this show and

watch it all the time, and I have recently discovered the amazing stories on .

Out of my own interest, I would like to create my own.

I am not a very scientifically intelligent person, however I love to write – so my story will

not be about a case. I am also lazy and don't feel like researching anything... Yep. Enjoy. :D


	2. 1 An Act of Revenge

**CHAPTER I**

**AN ACT OF REVENGE**

**Note**: The driver at the end of the chapter is NOT someone who you would know from

a House episode. He is a made up character. His past will be revealed in further chapters.

Thanks to House, they were shooting down the rain-stricken roads way too fast, breaking the speed limit, only to break several more laws once they arrived at their destination. Breaking an entry, robbery – the usual. And they all knew if they got caught, then House would certainly make sure they paid for what he told them to do. There was the typical atmosphere of "I don't want to do this" in the air of the small gray car.

The irony of their situation didn't hit him until then. He didn't want to do it, but for whatever reason, he still did. Why?

Without an imaginary answer, he pulled to a halt at a red light at an intersection. By know the rain was pouring down so hard that he could scarcely see the glow of the stoplight out his windshield. He couldn't hear the cars going by as thunder cracked across the sky, gradually becoming louder.

Dr. Robert Chase barely saw the light go green before slamming on the gas. Their latest patient had only hours to live if they couldn't come up with a diagnosis. Hopefully they could find something at the patient's house that could lead to an explanation. Everyone was stumped. House had quite agitatedly sent him and Thirteen to break in to the patient's home.

He stole a glance sideways at his mute passenger. She hadn't spoken a word since they had drove off and he was inwardly frustrated that he didn't know what was wrong.

"What road did he say the patient lived on again?" His Australian accent (to him he wasn't speaking an accent) echoed through the interior of the car. He knew exactly which road the house was on, but he longed for a conversation to take his mind from the dreadful silence.

Thirteen raised her head from where she had been laying it on the window, and glanced speculatively at Chase.

"Do you know what road we're on?"

He couldn't see the signs in between the flashes of lightning, the darkness, and the rain pouring down like buckets. In fact, only the dim reflection on his windshield told him the light was green as he approached another intersection.

"Well, I think we-" he broke off at terrifying roaring sound that definitely wasn't thunder.

The wheel seemed to be jerked out of his hands as he was hurled sideways, to his right, but his seat belt prevented him from falling in to the passenger's seat. Winded and temporarily blinded, he felt a searing pain in his left side and the world spun out of control.

Thirteen's head collided with the window and it shattered with her consciousness.

Chase was out only for seconds. He was hardly aware of what was going on, or what had just happened. His entire body ached, especially his side where the door had connected with him. Breathing was an effort. It took a moment for him to turn his head. He realized he was upside down, hanging from his seat belt. Wincing as he looked up, he froze when he saw Thirteen hanging upside down and limp from her seat belt, blood dripping from her hair.

"Thirteen?" He mumbled through blood dribbling down his mouth. He had smashed his face in to the steering wheel at one point. Her face looked so pale, she could have been dead.

_Jesus._ He closed his eyes for a moment, dizzy in his pain.

When his gaze opened, he thought he saw a dark shape emerge in front of him. Then he saw no more.

The traffic camera fuzzily recorded a large blue car slamming in to a small gray car and sending it spinning wildly out of control, rolling until it connected with a telephone pole. It recorded a man dressed in black running from the blue vehicle to the gray car. Lightning flashed. The camera stopped recording for at least 30 seconds. It came back just in time to see the assailant car drive off.

The driver of the large blue car glanced in his mirror every few seconds. He was making sure he hadn't been followed, especially by any police officers. He hadn't.

It was silent in his car. He felt fortunate for that. He hated noise.

He had stuck the two unconscious doctors in the back of his car. It wasn't a comfortable fit, for sure. He had nothing against either of them – but he had to get back at that... that monster.

Hate and anger burned in the pit of his stomache. He would make sure he paid.

_By tomorrow morning... We'll see who is laughing now, Doctor House!_


	3. 2 Road Trip

**CHAPTER 2**

**ROAD TRIP**

Chase awoke to severe pain rippling up his left side and throbbing in his face. Compared to his side, he could tolerate what was burning his mouth and nose. It took him a moment to catch his bearings, and when he did, he realized he was occasionally being jerked up and down by some unknown force. All he knew was that each jerk was causing him to hurt worse. He felt nausea rolling through his stomache. He opened his mouth to call out, but realized he couldn't – he was gagged! He began to squirm and moan and soon realized that his hands and feet were bound. While he continued to wiggle around, beginning to panic, he heard another person moan.

He held still long enough to look at his surroundings. There was very little moving space. It took him a moment to realize that he was in a trunk – the jerking was the car going over bumps.

He found Thirteen curled up beneath him. She was bound and gagged as well, and though her eyes weren't open yet, her breathing was quickening and she was making light noises. He rolled over so that he wasn't pinning her down, but there was so little room in the trunk, that they were both confined to practically the same space.

Breathing seemed to become much harder.

Thirteen suddenly jolted around. He wished she hadn't, because the sudden movement sent pain rippling up his side. She froze immediately and winced. Dried blood covered her face, while some fresh continued to trickle down her face. He couldn't see where exactly the blood was coming from because of the dim light in the trunk, but she obviously had several wounds on her head.

After awhile she raised her head, blinking open her eyes and they were wide, scared, and in pain. He wanted to say something comfort like 'it'll be alright' but through his gag, all the came out was a muffled groan. Her gaze fixed on his for a moment.

They breathed weakly at the air that was slowly dissipating.

Foreman and Taub sat alone in House's office. When neither Thirteen or Chase had returned from exploring the patient's home, Cuddy called House and Wilson in to her office, and for the past 30 minutes, that's where they had remained. The two co-workers shared the same puzzled glance, neither knowing what was going on.

Where were Thirteen and Chase?

Foreman was more annoyed than worried, and Taub was anxious.

"I wonder what's going on?" Taub announced aloud, flipping his pencil around the table so it made an incredibly annoying clattering sound. After the fifth time, Foreman slapped the pencil down on the table.

"Who knows. Wasting time." Foreman leaned back on his chair, tapping the floor with one hard, black leather shoe.

"What do you think Cuddy is talking to House and Wilson about?" Taub's questions were becoming steadily more annoying as he kept talking. His head was beginning to throb, and why was his co worker asking him questions that he obviously couldn't have the answers to?

"I don't know. Why don't you go and ask them?"

"Ask who what?" The cane clicked on the floor as the door was pushed open and three pairs of feet entered.

Foreman looked up at the extremely grave, upset faces of Wilson and Cuddy. House limped over to his desk and sat down, grabbing his beloved tennis ball and began to toss it off the wall. Foreman noticed something was wrong when even his boss had a distant look on his face.

"What's going on?" Foreman looked to Wilson and Cuddy still standing by the doorway.

"We've got a problem," Cuddy began.

Thirteen struggled helplessly against the agonizing pain in her head. It was almost blinding, almost deafening, and almost kept her from figuring out where she was and what was happening. She faintly saw Chase in front of her as a fuzzy shape and squiggly outline. Was that blood on his face?

Drowsy and quickly fading, she tried to understand what was happening. She was lying on a moving surface that bumped up and down occasionally and rumbled... A car.

When she tried to reach her arms out and feel, she felt her hands held fast behind her back. Both her shoulders ached, but that pain was almost nonexistent next to her ferociously throbbing skull. Her curiosity was much more powerful than her doctor instincts to lay still, so she turned her head. Fresh flames burned the inside of her skull and she cried out a strange, animal like noise through her gag. Her eyes fell on Chase before they shut as exhaustion took over.

She was asleep just seconds before the car stopped running.


	4. 3 Secret Reasons

**CHAPTER 3**

**SECRET REASONS**

**Notes**: A few lines in to this chapter is a (boring) description of their whereabouts.

If you have no imagination and don't care how it looks where they are, skip it so you

don't waste too much time.

Chase woke up on his side, head pressed in to a stone cold floor. His body ached with discomfort from straining against the ropes, and from the position he'd been lying in. For the first few minutes, he was too scared to open his eyes and raise his head. He didn't want to know where he was, or who was with him. He didn't want to wake up, and hoped if he lay still long enough, he'd wake up from this nightmare.

But he couldn't. He had to know where he was and find a way to escape. He had to know who had done this. It was so cold in here...

He opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he saw was a cement wall just inches in front of his face before moving out of view. Holding his breath, he rolled, wincing at the fresh pain in his side and pausing for a moment to catch his bearings. His side felt swollen. But for whatever reason, the condition of his body seemed less interesting than where he was for the moment.

The ceiling was about five feet above where he was lying. He wouldn't be able to stand up straight. The only light came from a dim, rectangular light that flashed over in the corner – it reminded him of a detention room light. He slowly sat up, breathing heavily and swallowing several times as pain pushed its way in to his throat. He didn't want to choke to death before he knew where he was – and where was Thirteen?

He finally remembered that she had been with him. He rotated his head, scanning the room slowly and carefully. There were no windows, and one small door at the opposite end of the cavern-like room. It was an extremely small room, stretching about ten feet long, eight feet wide, and five feet high.

He felt extremely claustrophobic, only adding to his difficulties in breathing. Then, just in front of him and closer to the door than he was, lay Thirteen.

His feet were still bound, so he had to wriggle and squirm and roll his way over to her in agony from his side, and by the time he reached her, he was doused with sweat and feeling that nauseating twinge in his stomache and throat. He had to close his eyes and regulate his strained breathing for several seconds before he could sit up again.

As far as he could tell, she was unconscious and her breathing was as strained as his.

Just as he looked up, the door opened and a dark shape emerged. The shape was large, but other than that and the fact that it was dressed all in black, he couldn't see anything else. As the shape drew closer, Chase felt fear rising in his chest, and he stared at the approaching figure with panic in his eyes.

There was nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

And he couldn't run or hide even if there was.

The figure reached towards him, and he jerked away, but the figure was fast and strong hands grasped Chase's head. He froze, wheezing silent breaths out of his nose and he waited for the person to kill him.

But he didn't. Chase was startled when the hands gripping him tore the duct tape off his mouth.

It burned fiercely, but he was too relieved to fill his lungs with fresh, cool air to cry out. He watched in confusion as the person turned to Thirteen and did the same. She didn't wake up.

"Who are you?" He managed to get the courage to gasp out. But the figure didn't respond, or even give any implication that it had heard. Instead, the figure turned and walked back out of the room, shutting the door.

"House! What are we going to do?" It was Taub, of course.

House rolled his eyes while limping quickly down the hall, knowing well that Foreman, Taub, Wilson, and Cuddy were all following him. His patience was already wearing thin, and he turned to glare at them.

"Well, we can search for clues – but no, that's the police's jobs! Oh, we can try calling their phones, but they've been kidnapped! We can go knocking on door to door to look for them, but that would be harassment," the sarcasm raised heavily in his obnoxious voice. They all glared at him.

He turned and walked away, his cane ticking on the floor, deep in thought.

They could not be found.

Thirteen's sudden movement jolted Chase out of his daze. He had been staring at the walls, wondering what House and the others were doing. Did they even know they were missing? How long had it been? And better yet, _where the hell are we?_

He wasn't sure how long it had been since their kidnapper had left them lying bound on the concrete floor. All he knew was that he was freezing and his body ached from the pains of the car crash. He couldn't remember what they were doing right before the car crash. It was all a blur to him. _I can't remember,_ he thought.

But that was when his thoughts had been disturbed, so he didn't need long to broad over that, and he turned to look over at Thirteen who had sat up quickly as soon as she had come around.

She looked dazed and she winced and let her head drop down, twisting her arms as she tried to pull them free of her restraints.

"Thirteen?" Chase watched as she struggled fruitlessly against the ropes.

She turned her head to stare at him as though not realizing he was there.

"Chase?" Her eyes were glazed and slow to focus. He saw the blood that was now dried to her hair and face. "Where are we?"

She voiced the one question that he couldn't answer.

"I don't know," he whispered, shuffling closer, staring at her head.

"Let me see." He couldn't move her head with his hands tied behind her back. He knew she was likely to be stubborn and refuse, but he was shocked and concerned when she simply complied and turned her head.

He could see deep cuts embedded in the skin, some shiny with red streaked glass, while little ringlets of blood dribbled out of the wounds.

He knew she was shaking – he could see it. He forgot for a moment that he was shaking too as he switched in to doctor mode. He forgot it was freezing. He had to do something to stop the bleeding or she would bleed to death.

But what could he do without his hands?

He sighed, defeated. He felt guilty.

"It's not your fault, you know. Neither of us saw the other car coming," she said as though she had read his mind. She was beginning to lose strength – he could tell by the way she was slowly sliding back until she fell against his chest. He didn't move even as the blood from her wounds began to stain his shirt.

"Try and stay awake," he urged, as she stared at him with her eyes fluttering.

"This isn't a random kidnapper... He chose us," she struggled to speak, her voice slurring so it made it hard for him to hear "for a reason."

She was out again.


	5. 4 This Isn't Random

**CHAPTER 4**

**THIS ISN'T RANDOM**

"What do you want?"

Chase stared up at the man in alarm.

When the man had entered for the second time, he wasn't wearing the mask or the all-covering clothing that made it so Chase couldn't see who he was. Now he was amazed to see that he recognized this man – as the father of a little girl whom had died under House's care.

He understood what Thirteen had said.

It definitely wasn't a random kidnapping.

The large man glanced down at Chase, who was still sitting with Thirteen's head resting against his chest. He didn't dare to move.

The man produced something from his pocket, and Chase flinched at the snap as the pocket knife was opened. He wanted desperately to run, but he couldn't move very fast with his hands and feet bound, and he couldn't just leave Thirteen here.

He closed his eyes and stiffened as the man crouched down beside him, preparing to feel the knife come sliding across his throat, and be slammed in to his chest.

It didn't.

He felt firm hands close around one of his arms, and then felt the knife sliding along the skin of his palm. After several moments, there was a snap and he felt the bindings of the rope fall off.

Surprised, he stared up at the man who stood and looked down at him.

The man turned and walked away, leaving him and Thirteen alone in their prison.

"Why were Dr. Chase and Dr. Hadley heading to your patient's home?" The black-haired detective asked, scribbling on his notepad.

They were all sitting at a table.

House sat at one end, twirling his cane between his fingers and pretending not to be listening or caring. It seemed to be working. Cuddy, to his right, was glaring at him.

Next to Cuddy was Foreman, and to his left were Taub and Wilson. At the other end of the table sat a detective who was watching him with vague disinterest in his eyes. House didn't like that look.

"They were going to look for anything that the patient may have ingested or breathed in that would make him sick," Cuddy answered as House opened his mouth to say something sarcastic.

The detective looked at her before scribbling on his pad.

"Alright. Do you know anyone who may want to hurt them?"

House's cane thwacked the ground.

"We're _doctors_. We _lose_ patients on occasion. Everyone dies, but the families don't think that, do they? But I'm _sure_ our criminal is just some random lunatic who knocks our doctors off the road and kidnaps them for the hell of it. Why didn't I think of that?"

He was being obnoxious again.

The detective sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

It was going to be a long case.

After Chase had untied himself and Thirteen, he shuffled backwards, holding her head carefully, and laid it on the floor. Her felt along her skull for the glass, and once he did, he removed his hand to find it glistening with her blood.

He didn't have any bandages or needle and thread. It was likely she had an infection already though. He couldn't do anything about that. He had to stop the bleeding.

He removed his jacket, revealing a semi-long sleeve sweatshirt underneath. He looked closer at the wounds and saw that several of them had stopped bleeding while others were oozing around glass and hair.

He removed a few of the glass shards that weren't embedded too deep. If he removed the deeper ones, he might risk releasing a gush of blood. She'd already lost more than she needed.

She began to twitch and moan, and she brought her hand up to her head.

"Thirteen," he pushed her hand down and lifted her up, using his jacket to staunch the bleeding on her head. He felt her stiffen against him, and he leaned backwards against the wall, letting her fall back in to his shoulder as she winced in pain.

The pain in his own side had reduced to a dull ache. He probably had broken or bruised his ribs during the crash, but as far as he could tell, there wasn't any internal bleeding.

"Chase... What... Happened?" She mumbled.

"You were right," he whispered. This isn't random.


	6. 5 Demands and Punishments

**CHAPTER 5**

**DEMANDS AND PUNISHMENTS**

House's cell phone chirped. He jumped at the sudden, shrill noise that broke the silence. Quickly he reached down and opened the phone.

"What?" He snapped, not bothering to look at the number.

"Dr. House."

He froze. He didn't recognize that voice.

"Who is this?"

"I see you don't remember me. Let me try and refresh your memory. She was four years old and her name was Jesse," the voice hissed in the phone.

House stared across the room at Wilson, the only other occupant in his office, who stared back at House in puzzlement.

"You killed my daughter, Dr. House. Call me back and I'll tell you where we can... meet. You have until noon today to agree to meet me or both your colleagues are dead." House opened his mouth but found himself alone on the phone. The man on the other side of the phone had hung up.

_Jesse?_ He stared at the empty phone screen.

"House?" Wilson was watching him across the room, worry growing in his eyes.

He had no idea what time it was. Was it night? Or was it day? How long had it been since they'd been kidnapped? What day was it?

All he knew was that he was hungry and thirsty and his side ached. He longed for a cold glass of water and for just _anything_ to eat. For the third time, his stomache growled in protest at his neglect to feed it.

"You're hungry," Thirteen stated unnecessarily. Her voice was still slurred.

"You're not?" He mumbled back.

"No," she sighed.

He leaned forward so he could look at her eyes. Her blue-green eyes were too bright with pain and her pupils were dilated. He sighed, wishing he could do something to ease her pain.

His left arm was around her chest, keeping her from sliding to the floor while his right hand held the jacket on her head still. She was still leaning against his left shoulder and her body felt completely limp and she couldn't raise her arms.

"I'm tired," she said.

"I know..."

House tapped impatiently on his desk, watching his phone, and being watched by the detective, Cuddy, Wilson, and his team.

Frustrated, he looked up and glared at them all.

"What?" He snapped.

"Did... he say where he wanted you to meet him?" Cuddy sounded nervous.

"No, I said that ten minutes ago and it hasn't changed yet. Maybe he plans on jumping in to a time machine to change what he said during his call." He knew his sarcasm wasn't helping anyone, but he couldn't help that. He had to hide the fact that he cared.

Before anyone could respond, there was a shrill ring from his cell phone.

Without thinking he lunged to pick it up, ignoring the hand signals from the detective and the quick murmur of voices from his colleagues.

"Yes?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. It was 11:00 AM.

"Have you decided?" The cold voice asked.

"Where do you want to meet?"

"Parking lot. Ten minutes."

The caller's phone ticked off.


	7. 6 Broken Promises

**CHAPTER 6**

**BROKEN PROMISES**

_Click. Step. Click. Step._

The click of his cane hitting the ground as he walked around the parking lot echoed through the empty lot.

_The parking lot... Ten minutes._ The words echoed in his ears. House glanced around. There was not a person on sight. He knew there was police hiding somewhere in the parking lot in hopes to apprehend the kidnapper when he appeared, but he couldn't see them.

He glanced a the sky.

The sun was a distant ball of flames in the centre of the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight. The weather had changed dramatically since the storm last night.

His phone rang.

It made him jump, which only made him more irritable.

"Where are you?" He snapped in to the cell. He didn't bother to check the caller ID. He knew it had to be the kidnapper.

"Keep walking," the hushed voice said.

House headed forward, eyes scanning the empty parking lot, wondering where in the world the kidnapper was.

"Stop," the voice ordered.

House stopped.

He looked around.

Nobody.

_Bang!_

There was no pain... At first. He felt himself lying flat on his back, breathing hard and gazing at the sky. It took him several moments to realize he had been shot.

Once he realized it, his stomache began to hurt.

"Why?" He gasped in to the phone which had landed near his head.

"Goodbye Doctor House."

He blacked out.

* * *

><p>The door to the room slammed open.<p>

Chase flinched, screwing his eyes up at the sudden light that hit his face. Everything swam in front of him so he didn't see the gun that the man pointed at him.

"What..."

He was aware of Thirteen stiffening against him.

The light turned off and he found he could see again. His gaze was drawn immediately to the gun in the man's hands.

He wanted to move.

But he couldn't.

"Get up." The man jerked the gun up, as though they needed a signal to do as they were told.

He stood slowly, wincing as he did, and he helped drag Thirteen up, despite her weak cry of protest.

"Drop the jacket."

Chase didn't want to. He was using it to stop the bleeding. But when the kidnapper's hands tightened around the gun, he complied.

He didn't realize it, but he had shifted in front of Thirteen.

"Go." He pointed in the direction of the open door.

The man shoved them, and they both headed out.

_Is he going to kill us? _ He wondered.

* * *

><p>"Single gunshot wound to the stomache!" Was all Foreman heard before everyone started speaking at once. He watched in silent amazement as House was wheeled to the Operating Room, stretched out on a gurney.<p>

He started to follow but someone touched his shoulder.

It was Wilson.

"The police want to talk to us." He looked pale and... Well. Awful.

Foreman felt a pang of sympathy. House was Wilson's best friend... Well, if it were possible for House to be anyone's friend... He had to be taking this hard.

But he looked outwardly calm.

Foreman looked once at the slamming doors before following Wilson to Cuddy's office where he found the chief of police waiting.

The man wasted no time.

"What was it that the suspect told Doctor House?" He asked.

"He wanted House to meet him a the parking lot in ten minutes." Foreman replied when no one else rose to answer.

"So it's safe to assume that the kidnapper lives within ten minutes of the hospital..." It wasn't a question.

"Or, he was already at the parking lot when he called... Or on his way," Wilson argued.

The office didn't look at him. "Possible."

"We've already determined that the shooter was on top of one of the surrounding buildings when he took the shot." He looked as though this meant something important.

The doctors all looked at each other blankly.

"And?" Taub voiced the question they all had.

The officer looked at him irritably.

"Which means that our kidnapper... Or at least the shooter... Was a sniper." He paused to let that sink in for a moment. "This is what we have so far. A father of a little girl named Jesse, has some kind of sniper background. Possibly lives close to the hospital. His daughter died while under House's care. Anything ring a bell?" He looked around the group.

Foreman's eyes widened.

Jesse... The name was unfamiliar. But he remembered, many months ago, when a little girl was wheeled in to the hospital after collapsing in the hallway... House took the case but no matter what they did, she got worse. She eventually died from severe abdominal bleeding. Her name was Jessica.

But Jesse could be a nickname.

Her father had been military...

It all fit.

"Jessica Marley," he grunted out, gaining the attention of all his colleagues. He saw Taub's eyes go wide as though he just realized who he was talking about.

"Her father was ex military... I don't remember what branch. His name was Alex. His wife had died a few years back and Jessica was all he had. She died because we couldn't come up with a diagnosis in time." Foreman sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his head. Why hadn't he thought of that before.

"Alex Marley?" The officer began typing something in to his laptop. There was a loud beeping, and then the officer grabbed his radio and ran out the room, screaming commands.


	8. 7 Turning Tables

**CHAPTER 7**

**TURNING TABLES**

"Where are you taking us?" Chase asked as he and Thirteen were being pushed roughly through hallway to hallway.

The man offered no response.

He was just about to turn around when he was pushed so hard in to a room that he fell to the floor, yelping as he landed on his injured side. He felt someone brush by him as Thirteen fell to the ground too.

Chase rolled around on to his back, staring at the gun pointed right in his face, unable even to look at the man who's face was just behind it.

"My Jesse is dead because of you," the man hissed through his teeth.

Chase opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Officer Matthews raced for the address on his GPS. If they hurried, they might reach it in time to save the two doctors and take down their suspect.

Sirens blaring and lights flashing, the convoy or police cars took up most of the street.

He just hoped they'd make it in time.

* * *

><p>Thirteen began to raise herself slowly off the floor. Her body felt shaky and weak and she didn't know if she could hold herself up. She moved her head, lethargically, to see the blurry outline of a man in front of her. She couldn't see any details – it was all dark.<p>

While her vision swam, she realized that Chase was next to her.

In that moment she realized that the small dark shape in front of the man was a gun. In the distance, she heard an annoying, high pitched sound that made her head hurt worse.

Chase began to talk.

"Sir, your daughter-"

"Shut up!" She closed her eyes, flinching as she felt a rush of air, and then a loud grunt. Then silence.

She opened her eyes slowly and saw Chase on his back several feet away.

She managed to get to her hands and knees, but couldn't move further as nausea shook across her body. She groaned silently and touched her head, not caring about the dried blood covering her hands.

"You killed my daughter," the man spoke again. She forced herself to look at him. His back was turned to her and he was staring down at Chase, gun aimed and ready.

He was going to kill Chase!

The sudden realization left her feeling more weak and shaky than before. Once she thought of it, she wondered just how scrambled her brains were since she hadn't realized it sooner. She tried to clear her mind. She had to think, say something, do something. But what?

She opened her mouth to speak, but the man's sharp cry drowned out any words that may have formed.

"Go to hell!" There was a click as the safety was turned off.

The adrenaline that surged through her veins shocked her. It brought with it a pounding fury that for a moment let her see clearly, and the pain faded too. There he was, a tall man, with his fingers trembling on the gun, standing over Chase whose lip was bleeding and more blood was dried to his face. Now that she could see clearly, she could almost think clearly too.

Perhaps she hadn't been thinking at all.

In the mere second that the safety was turned off, the adrenaline gave her just enough strength to leap off the ground and crash in to the much larger man.

Surprise was the element she needed, and the gun was jerked away from Chase as both she and the man fell to the floor. Adrenaline couldn't go that far, because as soon as her balance tipped, the pain came back with blinding agony, and everything went dark.


	9. 8 Bits and Pieces

**CHAPTER 8**

**BITS AND PIECES**

"Thirteen!" Chase stared, stunned, as his wounded co-worker tackled the man to the ground. As soon as they hit the floor, however, she went completely limp and Chase's eyes widened as the man rolled almost immediately, picked his gun up, and swung it towards her.

It was his turn to do something.

He rushed forward, grabbing the gun hand, and he twisted the man's wrist, hard, until he felt something pop. The man yelped in pain and Chase tried not to flinch as a fist connected with his shoulder.

Fortunately the blow was weaker than it could have been.

The gun clattered to the floor, drawing his attention for a mere second.

The world suddenly tipped upside down as the man grabbed him and threw him hard against the wall. Black spots burst before his eyes and he lay incapacitated for a moment.

He thought he heard sirens in the distance, but it was probably just his brain recovering from hitting his head against the wall.

The man's good hand found the gun, but it was shaking so unsteadily as he aimed it at Chase that he wondered if the man really wanted to kill him, or if he was just caught up in a sudden wave of grief over his daughter.

He heard a loud bang.

He closed his eyes as the shot went off and he waited for the pain.

* * *

><p>"House? House!"<p>

An annoyingly familiar voice made his eyes open slowly. The brunette woman slowly materialized in front of him, and he stared blankly up at her, wondering what had happened, and why he was lying in a hospital bed.

"Thank God you're awake!" Cuddy sighed, the relief evident on her face.

He stared at her, his blue eyes wavering for just a moment. He tried to recall the last few moments he remembered. Work, case, patient. Thirteen and Chase in car crash. Gone. Kidnapper and ransom. Parking lot... Parking lot.

He tried to focus. What happened in the parking lot?

"House? Are you alright?"

An amazingly bright light burned his eyes and he flinched away, drawing back against the pillows and muttering "what the hell are you trying to do? I'm crippled, not blind!"

He was aware of Cuddy's strained grin.

"Do you remember what happened, House?" She asked carefully.

"You mean how I got here? Not a clue. I remember the parking lot, and that's it," his tone was light and cheerful, hiding the fact that he felt rather anxious inside.

"The kidnapper shot you. You were lucky. It went through your side, missed your kidneys, and the bleeding was easy to stop. It could have been much worse. You must have blacked out as soon as the bullet hit you." She spoke as if he had fallen off a bike.

He blinked slowly.

"Chase and Thirteen?" He asked warily, not knowing if he wanted the answer.

"The police are heading for the suspect's home," she replied guardedly. "We'll know something within the hour."

* * *

><p>"Doctor Chase!" A loud voice called.<p>

He forced his eyes open. There was no pain. Not even a little. Where had the bullet hit him? He knew it must be bad if he didn't feel anything.

Standing over him was a man dressed in a police uniform. He stared in amazement at the cop before he slowly raised his head. He almost threw up at what he saw. The man was lying in a pool of his own blood, part of his head practically gone. Surrounding him were several more armed cops. He felt queasy just looking at the guy so he averted his gaze.

"Are you alright doctor?" The man who first spoke knelt down in front of him.

He looked blankly at him for a moment before the fog cleared.

"She needs an ambulance," he responded, nodding at Thirteen's unmoving body.

"Already called in." The cop nodded and walked away.

Chase felt himself beginning to shake. He breathed in and out very slowly, shifting slowly to his feet. He wandered around the man's body, limping gingerly, and then knelt down beside Thirteen, feeling her pulse.

It was weak, but it was there.


	10. 9 Recovery

**CHAPTER 9**

**RECOVERY**

Foreman took one look at the extent of bruising on Chase's side and knew that he was going to be sore for a few weeks. It wasn't likely that anything was broken, but his ribs were probably bruised.

He was lucky. If the car had slammed in his car any harder, he may have punctured a lung.

Foreman lay his hand gently on Chase's shoulder as his colleague stared blankly at the wall. He could see his hands trembling and he knew Chase was struggling to understand what had just happened. It was going to take a few weeks for him to heal physically, but mentally it was going to take much longer.

His gaze was drawn to the other bed in the room.

She still hadn't woken up. He didn't know the full extent to her head injury, but they had to wait until she woke up to determine any lasting trauma. The pain killer dripping in to her body would probably keep her under for just awhile longer until it ran out. Then the pain from her head would wake her.

"She saved my life."

The Australian accent sent Foreman's eyes back to Chase. Chase had shifted his gaze from the wall and he was now staring at Thirteen.

"He was going to shoot me, and she jumped at him. I don't know how. She had a concussion strong enough to knock out an elephant. She didn't even hesitate, even though she was in pain," he sounded almost bitter. Guilty.

Foreman looked sternly at him.

"Do you think she would have just stood there and watched as he shot you? She would never do that, and you know it. Stop blaming yourself for what happened. It isn't your fault that crazy people do crazy things. She wouldn't have done that if she hadn't wanted to, so stop being stupid," the sharpness in his voice seemed to pull Chase from his guilt-ridden fog.

He almost smiled and said "you're right." He looked around. "How's House?"

Foreman grunted. "He's healing. He was complaining earlier that someone didn't grab his cane from the parking lot. He's fine."

There was a sigh from the other end of the room. Thirteen's eyes were open and she was watching them. He knew her enough to know that the dull look in her eyes meant she was in pain but she was hiding it well.

"Hi Foreman. Hi Chase." She sounded characteristically calm and unshaken. Foreman knew better. Her face looked paler than usual and the bed sheets were shaking a little.

"Hey. How's the head?" Chase asked first?

"Good," she answered a little too quickly.

She and Chase were both staring at reach other with the same look shared in their gaze. He turned and left the room, but stood just outside it and listened.

"Thanks for saving me," he heard Chase murmur quietly.

"I thought you saved me," was Thirteen's reply.

"Oh, well, I guess we're even."

There was silence for a moment. Then.

"I'm glad you're okay, Thirteen."

"I'm glad we both are."

There was a shared sigh, and then Foreman walked down the hall, smiling to himself.

**THE END**

Thanks for reading!

I hope you liked it. If not, then, well, sorry!


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